


Obstacle Course

by pseudocitrus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudocitrus/pseuds/pseudocitrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren finally made it through the first part of his training, but certain things are distracting him from his goal of killing all titans on earth. Luckily, Mikasa is around to give him a little help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \+ takes place in the time skipped during episode 3
> 
> \+ i took with some liberties with how the training is run, woo
> 
> \+ let me know if you spot any errors. in particular i probably got some secondary characters off x_x
> 
> \+ & enjoy :)

_I did it._  Blood drummed in all his limbs. His fists, held up for balance, were shaking.  _I DID IT!_

Though the other trainees looked at him in shock, the only one whose eyes he sought were Mikasa's, who looked back at him levelly. Her mouth moved and Armin swallowed, but Eren couldn't hear what she said; Shadis was beginning to speak.

"Don't get too excited!" he announced, and the voice that had encouraged him was once more like a club on his forehead. "You think you can kill titans hovering there like a butterfly? You've got a long way to go before you can manage to give a titan so much as a toenail trimming!"

But Eren's mood couldn't be soured. When he fell from the 3D gear and jammed his left knee into a pebble it didn't even hurt. When Armin dragged him, limping and smiling, into the cafeteria and prompted him to eat, Eren leaned back in his chair and announced, happily, "No thanks. I'm not hungry."

Behind his closed eyes, the sight of titans falling left and right beneath his swords was filling enough.

"Come on, Eren!" Armin encouraged. "This isn't the regular food. They have nicer food since we made it into the program. See? Butter!"

But no amount of waving the buttered bread beneath his nose would shake Eren from his daydreams. Suddenly Armin felt a chill; he turned around and swallowed when he saw Sasha staring at them, nostrils flared.

" _Eren_!" Armin hissed, waggling the bread more furiously, to no effect. Realizing he was looking ridiculous, Armin grimaced and put the bread back down on the platter, and Mikasa picked it up.

"Eren," she called, and Eren blinked and glanced over at her. She pushed the bread against his mouth. "Eat it. Or you'll never have the energy to kill titans."

Eren's eyes widened. "You're right!" he gasped, and began to shovel food into his mouth.

Armin sighed in relief and looked over to see Sasha hunching in disappointment and pecking at what remained of her own share of food.

"You always know just what to say, Mikasa," he said, with amusement and apology, and began to dig into his own food, ignoring Sasha's watchful gaze. "But I suppose you would know best how to get him to do anything, having lived with him, huh?"

Lived with him — in that little warm house that always smelled like fresh stew and bread — in that little warm world where Eren had been able to look at things without seeing titans.

"It's easier now than ever," Mikasa said between bites, "to get Eren to do something. Even if that thing is to use rusted, broken maneuver gear."

"Did you say something?" Eren managed through a full mouth, looking up, and Mikasa and Armin shook their heads, Armin laughing nervously. Eren narrowed their eyes at them, but before he could say anything further he — and the rest of the room — was interrupted by a shriek, a clatter as a girl stood straight so fast that her chair tipped over.

" _Franz!_ " she cried happily, and then slapped her hands over her mouth and reddened face. The cafeteria filled with laughter and hoots.

"Ooohh, Franz!" Marco cooed, and ran to embrace him. "Thank goodness you made it into training! Now we can be together forever!"

"Ahh, cut it out, cut it out — it's not like that —"

"Oh, Franz — never leave meee —"

" _Marco_  —"

"Marco's even redder than Hannah," laughed Jean, quite flushed himself, and Armin saw Jean tuck a flask into his belt discreetly before pounding the table uproariously.

Armin smiled as he took in the room, the laughing, the grins. It probably wasn't the best idea to drink alcohol, especially given that training was starting again first thing tomorrow — and really he wouldn't have thought that this was the time to celebrate at all, given the kind of situation they had just been admitted to.

But maybe, despite everything, it was something to be happy about.

"Hey," Armin said, turning to Eren and Mikasa and taking up a mug of water. "Congratulations! Let's drink to us being the best students in the 104th Trainee Squad!"

Eren grabbed a mug and smacked it against Armin's. "To us killing all the titans on earth!"

"To us," Mikasa said, tipping her mug to theirs, "staying together."

They nodded to each other and drank.

:::

Their rich dinner didn't last long, but the celebrations continued as the trainees somehow procured more alcohol and formed an impromptu party heading into the forest. Eren and Armin parted ways with Mikasa and as they made their way to the men's barrack, Marco spotted them and waved.

"Hey, Rusty! And you, Armin! Want to join us?"

"Hell no! There's training tomorrow!" Eren yelled back.

"Good," Jean muttered audibly. "Come on, let's just leave them."

"Ahh, come on, come on — life is short, you know — and it's probably even shorter now! How about you, Armin?"

"Ah — no thanks — but thank you!" Armin yelled back, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Marco laughed. "You guys better not be heading back to the men's barracks…"

"We are! Because there's  _training tomorrow_!" Eren shouted, and frowned when Marco and the other trainees all began to lose themselves in laughter.

"I can't believe them," Eren muttered, turning away and ranting as they walked back to the barracks. "We're here to be titan killers, not to — to dance around drunk. They're all going to be completely useless tomorrow." Snorting, Eren reached for the knob to the barracks.

"Wait," Armin said, and put his hand out to stop Eren from opening the door. "Why are the lights on?"

"Huh?"

Armin pointed at the window around the side of the building, which was glowing orange. "I thought everyone was heading out into the forest," Armin said, "but the lights —"

He was interrupted by a muffled noise within — a creak — a noise, a creak — a noise, a creak — Armin's eyes widened and he covered his mouth.

"What?" Eren hissed. "What is it?"

"Let's go, Eren," Armin decided through his palms and fingers, "let's go party after all," but when he grabbed Eren's arm and began to flee, Eren pulled himself away and went to the barrack window.

"What is going —"

" _Sshhh!_ " Armin pulled him down, but Eren kept his eyes above the windowsill. Though the lights were quite dim, he could make out an odd shape moving on one of the beds — or rather,  _two_  odd shapes —

"Wh..."

Armin was pulling at his sleeve in panic to get him to leave, but Eren wasn't paying attention. He continued to stare, not realizing he was doing it, mouth slightly agape.

" _Eren_ ," Armin wailed, yanking him down, and finally Eren collapsed down, flushing madly. Just like earlier in the day, his blood drummed — but the effect was decidedly different, and — concentrated — in more places than others.

"Yeah," he said finally, voice shaking. "Let's go party."

:::

The girl's barracks were empty when Mikasa returned. The were probably all out in the forest. Her hand lingered on the doorknob. Should she go join them? But there was training tomorrow — Eren had made it — there was still a lot to do. Especially if Eren had managed to use the 3D gear even with it being rusted.

She pushed herself into bed and stared at the shadowed ceiling. If Eren kept going at this pace, he might eventually outrun her. And once he had his eyes on a titan, she knew that he wouldn't look back.

The door creaked open. Mikasa sat up to greet the newcomer, and a large shadow fell across her hand. The enterers didn't greet her; instead she heard fingernails scrabbling at the door frame, a suck of breath.

"Goodnight," someone whispered hoarsely, and then, a giggle, a reply: "Goodnight."

Mikasa stared. Hannah waved and giggled and closed the door, then turned, and jumped when she saw Mikasa staring at her.

"Ah!" She squealed — and then sighed, in relief. "O-oh, Mikasa, it's just you." Her cheeks were flushed. She adjusted the collar of her uniform.

"Just me?"

"Yeah — uh, I just mean — that is — I'm glad it's you —- and not someone else."

"Why?"

"Oh, come on, Mikasa, it's okay." Hannah smiled at her, then scanned the room. "Is, uh…is Eren still here?"

"Why would Eren be in the girl's barracks?"

"What do you mean, why?" Hannah laughed. "I thought you and Eren…you know…" She wrung her hands, but continued, determined. "I thought Eren and you — you know — slept together."

"Not since we were young," Mikasa replied, bewildered.

"Y…young?" Hannah's eyes widened; then she laughed. "No, I mean…come on…I mean…don't you…?"

"Have sex?" Mikasa finished, and Hannah's laugh was a little too high. She scratched the back of her head.

"No," Mikasa continued, seeing that Hannah was only going to continue scratching at the back of her head bashfully. "We don't. But it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm sorry, Mikasa, I just thought — we were all so sure that Eren was interested in you — and when he went on the gear today, the only one he looked at was you —"

"Eren is way more interested in titans than he is in any human being," Mikasa told her, and Hannah laughed.

"Oh wow, that's — that's pretty — um. Ew." Hannah composed herself, began to strip down to her underwear and pull back the covers of her bed. Mikasa could see red circles on the back of her neck, a freckling of tiny bruises.

"Are you okay, Hannah?" Mikasa asked. "What are those?" And Hannah looked startled, then patted her neck and laughed embarrassedly.

"Oh," she murmured, "they're kiss marks."

"Kiss...?"

"Yeah! Um, you wouldn't think it, but Franz is a little...he can get kind of...uh, you know. Or maybe you don't, I guess..."

"Does it hurt?"

"No," she murmured, unable to contain her smile, "it feels really good," and she pursed her lips, and then burst. "It feels  _so nice_. I never imagined it would feel like that — I was always kinda scared, you know? But feeling so — so close to him — I mean —"

She fumbled. "I mean, I know we're all here because of the titans, we're all just faceless soldiers to serve humanity and whatever Shadis says...but with Franz...when we're together, and he looks at me...I really feel like someone sees  _me_. Also," she added after a bashful silence, "it feels  _really_  good," and Mikasa watched her rub her kissmarks, rub her helpless grin.

"Um, anyway, goodnight, Mikasa! Thanks — thanks for listening."

"Goodnight," Mikasa replied, and switched off the lantern near her bed. She lied back down and stared at the ceiling. This time when she closed her eyes Eren was not charging out in front of her, but was behind. His mouth grazed the back of her neck. Underneath her warm blanket her skin prickled.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next phase of 3D gear training they had to put on their full harnesses by themselves, a feat only half the trainees could manage without tangling themselves up beyond escape. Shadis was further unamused by the inability of the trainees to fire their gear hooks at the targets set before them, much less hit the targets at all. By the end of the day, the only trainee who could both wear her harness and hit a target was Mikasa, who was rewarded with a warm potato that she ate while watching the rest of the squad run muddy laps in the rain.

"You went partying after all last night?" Mikasa asked later in the cafeteria, having observed Eren and Armin stumbling over the grounds, and both of them raised their heads from the table just enough to shake them.

"No," Armin explained wearily, "but we ended up sleeping in the forest."

"The...forest? Why did you do that?"

"No reason!" Eren snapped, glaring at the air in front of him, and didn't see Armin look at Mikasa helplessly. He was furious with himself, and frustrated. His brain had been corrupted — his focus on titans cracked. Whenever he bumped someone (felt the pressure of them on him), or caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye (the ambiguous shape, like he had seen in the window last night), his blood raced, tried to escape and drag his mind along with it. He rested his head in his hands. How was he going to stop this? How —

"Aaaahh!" Eren yelled and leaped back from the table, chair clattering. Mikasa's hand remained, hovering over where his brow had been, fingers outstretched, graceful.

"What are you  _doing_?" he demanded, and in response Mikasa reached toward him again, faster this time. When she withdrew, a leaf was pinched in her thumb and forefinger. She twisted it in front of his nose.

"Ah..."

"Calm down, Eren," Mikasa said. "You're not going to make it into the scouting legion if you panic when I'm just trying to take something out of your hair."

She was right. "Yeah...okay, okay," he muttered.

"Besides," Mikasa added, "I can help you to tonight, if you want."

"Wh — what?!"

"With the hooks," she clarified, tapping her 3D gear. The flesh of her thigh shook. Eren swallowed and finally managed, "No, I'm okay. I think all I need is some rest."

But no amount of sleep ever felt like enough in the morning. Their hours changed by the day, preparing them for the unexpected, until the barest hint of the waking bell at any hour could have them out of bed and into their uniforms before it had even stopped ringing. Once the majority of trainees were able to hit the targets with their gear, they started training in teams that rotated between various activities: hand-to-hand combat, running, wilderness survival, and so on. The activity that Eren hated the most was the obstacle course, which was the name of a section of the forest canopy laden with large wooden rings they had to swing through in order. His 3D gear's hooks hit the trees as often as Eren himself did, and each night he retreated to the barracks, his body and ego covered in bruises.

"What do you think, Jean? Bruises finally faded enough so that they won't scare anyone when I'm showing off?" Marco was examining himself in the long mirror in the barracks bathroom, which was cracked and foggy but did the job with a little smudging and squinting.

"It doesn't matter how many muscles you have if you're going to be leering at people like that," Jean replied dryly.

"Doesn't matter how many muscles you have if the person you're after only cares about one man," Marco shot back with a laugh, and Jean's face turned dark in the mirror as Eren entered, face slack with exhaustion.

"Come on, there's a lot of other people to choose from," Connie piped up, and then rubbed his nose surreptitiously. "If anything, the training is making some of them way more attractive than it is any of us..."

Eren paled and fled. But they were right, and that was part of the reason that, after two weeks, he still hadn't finished the obstacle course. The team assigned to the obstacle course practiced it all at once, as practice for remaining cognizant if each others' presence in the air, and no sooner would he be on his way for getting through a ring than one of the female trainees would suddenly swoop past — too close — body strained, wiggling against her harnesses — and then Eren would miss the next branch — or shoot too early, and tangle his wires — or shoot too late, and allow his momentum to carry him into the nearest tree.

As the days progressed he got worse, not better. He knew enough about his body to know what it wanted — his father had explained everything to Mikasa and him, way back when — but he never actually imagined that he would start feeling this way, so — inconveniently — so —  _against his will._  He searched desperately for ways to be alone, but it was impossible: because they were in teams, there was always someone somewhere, resting or practicing or eating, and it was impossible to find a place to remedy himself that was as private as he wanted. And every time he thought he had a chance to be alone, Mikasa would suddenly intercept him.

"Eren," she called as he was heading to the barracks. "Don't forget to oil your harness."

"Eren," she called as he was heading discreetly into an empty part of the forest, "did you eat dinner?"

"Eren," she called, just as he was about to enter the bathhouse, "how was the obstacle course today?"

"Fine! It was fine! Sorry, Mikasa, I'm in a rush —"

But it was too late. Reiner and Connie had beat him into the empty bathroom. He wanted to scream and instead he just rested his forehead against the bathhouse wall with a groan.

Mikasa approached, confused. "Do you need help with anything?"

"No! I'm fine! Really," he told her sharply, "just — I'm tired right now. I'm going to rest," he announced, and Mikasa watched, crestfallen, as he stormed off to the men's barracks. Why was he avoiding her? They had constantly been on separate teams for the past couple weeks and she hadn't had the chance to see him — much less discuss the little aches she was having, deeper than her sore muscles and calloused skin, a below-belly hunger that she couldn't fill with bread or Shadis's steam of potato rewards. It only swelled whenever she saw him, whenever she saw Christa discreetly pulling her collar over kiss marks on her neck, whenever she practiced with her gear deeper in the forest and spotted Hannah and Franz there, hidden not-too-discreetly in the foliage.

Luckily they were set to be on the same team the next day. She took an early shower and went to the obstacle course just as the sun was rising, and was surprised to see Eren already there, fussing with his harness.

"Eren," she called, and Eren yelped and jumped.

"M — Mikasa, what are you — isn't it – really early —?"

"I thought I'd get warmed up," she explained, and watched as Eren fumbled, quickly buckling his belt, tucking his shirt in. She caught a glimpse of his stomach, lined already with muscle, and was surprised to see it. So Eren was working hard. Not that she had doubted it — but something twitched in her to actually see it — evidence of his diligence. And when he pulled his jacket on over the harness she saw that he was struggling to get his arms into the sleeves.

"It's getting too small," she observed.

"Huh?"

"Your jacket — it's getting too small. Because you're gaining muscle mass." She considered. "My jacket is still too big. Do you want to trade?"

"No," he told her, but she was already taking it off, and holding it out to him, and when he didn't take it she shook it against his chest encouragingly. It smelled different than his musty, dirt-scraped jacket — it smelled soapy — and it was dotted with drops that had fallen from her wet hair — the same drops that had beaded on the collar of her uniform, her chest — which was rising and falling — and rising — Eren flushed. Since when did Mikasa get such big…?

"Come on, Eren, just take it."

"No," he told her, and then said it again, snapping, " _No_ ," no  _way_  he was going to drag Mikasa into his stupid concentration problems, what was he  _thinking_ , Mikasa and her body suddenly tall and full and obvious without her jacket on, he turned his back on her and yelled at himself,  _Stop it, concentrate on titans, think about titans,_  and behind him Mikasa blinked. She held the jacket up another moment, in shock, and then put it back on again, wordless, her eyes on the ground.

She retreated to a stump and they waited in silence until the rest of their team, and Shadis, finally arrived. Armin was teamed with them this time and his waving hand paused when Eren and Mikasa both returned his greeting sullenly.

"Um…what happened?"

"Nothing," Eren told him, and when Armin looked at Mikasa in bewilderment she only shrugged.

"Well," Armin laughed nervously, "let's do our best today, okay? I know today's the day you'll make it through the course, Eren!"

"Yeah. Definitely."

The trainees began putting on their harnesses as Shadis spoke, and Eren shifted his eyes away firmly as Annie adjusted the harness across her legs, and straightened the belt across her bottom.

"Jaeger! Did you hear me?"

"Ah — sir! No, sir!"

"I said that I want to see all of you get through this course today," Shadis told him coldly. "Including you, Jaeger. Or we'll have to reconsider whether you're fit to serve humanity after all."

Eren paled. "I — I am!"

"Don't jabber to me about it! Just prove it!"

Eren swallowed.  _I can do it,_  he thought determinedly.  _I made it with the rusted 3D gear — I can do it now — I can do it I can do it I can do it._

But it was taking an awfully long time. By noon Eren had still just managed the first two rings, and could only just clip the third with his ankle, which was enough to send him into a dead spin in the air. He avoided looking at Shadis by staring down at his trembling hands, the right one bleeding at the fingernail where he had scrabbled at a trunk to keep from plummeting to the ground.

_Focus_ , he begged himself.  _Focus._

"Last run of the day," Shadis announced as the afternoon crawled into evening. "If all of you make it through in three minutes, you can go to dinner. If not, laps."

Everyone's cries of delight were quickly smothered by glares in Eren's direction. He swallowed and took his position on the starting area.

"On my mark," Shadis announced, and Eren took a deep breath. Focus. Focus.

"Go!"

He shot up into the air after the others, without flourish, shooting through the first and second rings successfully. The chilling evening air was filled with the hiss and clouds of gas from the maneuver gear, which flickered with the shadows of people passing to and fro overhead. Focus. Focus. His eyes searched the shadows and crooks in the trees where the hooks would lodge best.

There! A hook shot out and buried in the bark — but not his, which landed an instant later, and to the right. He yelled as the reels in the gear propelled him forward, straight into a blonde figure who just finished landing on a bough.

" _Ann_  —"

She looked up, but too late; Eren's body collided into hers, and she yelled as she was shoved off the branch. For a moment they were falling together, his flailing arms wrapped around her — but then she shot off another hook and recovered, dangling for only a moment before zipping to continue the course. Eren shot off his other hook in panic as well, and watched as it sailed, expended its length into the empty air. He thrashed, yelled, arms rowing —

— and then yelled again as something slammed into him — he gasped for breath — Mikasa hissed as Eren's weight pitched her balance more than she expected — they spun in the air but her unwinding wires softened their speed, and they met the ground running, stumbling, falling. Eren wheezed and coughed as he tumbled onto his back, sucking breath back into his crushed lungs.

" _Eren_! Mikasa! Are you alright?" Armin cried from a branch overhead. Mikasa stood, rubbing her head, and Eren groaned.

"Yeah..."

"Yeah," Mikasa replied, reeling the hook back into her gear and starting to pull Eren up by the shoulder.

"Hurry up, Eren! You can still make it!"

"Don't touch me," Eren groaned, pulling his shoulder away from Mikasa.

"Eren?" she said in confusion.

"Eren!" Armin yelled. "Stand up! Come on!"

He couldn't. He rolled into a ball. The leg he had fallen on hurt, but more than that...for just a moment, Annie had been in his arms, and it had felt...even in that fleeting moment, really warm —

What was the  _matter_  with him? He covered his face with his arms. Groans rang out from the canopy around him. The next voice was Shadis's.

"Alright, time's up! Everyone head back to the grounds and run ten laps!"

:::

Eren refused to be consoled or carried from the forest and only waved furiously at Mikasa and Armin when they offered to at least help him remove his gear and harness.

"I'm  _fine_!" he snapped. "Just go away!"

"We'll wait for you at least," Armin offered, and Eren turned red.

"No! I'm fine, just — just let me rest a little! Go do your laps!"

There was no reasoning with him. Mikasa couldn't even think of a titan-related encouragement. At the very least Eren seemed too energetic to be seriously hurt, and after a while he did make it out to run his laps, just in time for the trainees that finished running to scowl at him as they made their way off the field. Mikasa watched as he avoided all their gazes, glancing up only briefly to glance at Annie, who said only, "Watch it next time," to which he nodded and looked away, cheeks red.

Mikasa gasped. Armin glanced over at her in shock.

"What? What is it, Mikasa?"

"Nothing," she answered, nothing, except that it felt like she had crashed into a tree and been gutted by the branches. She put her hand against her brow.

" _We were all so sure that Eren was interested in you…_ "

Though she would have never said it, she believed the same. Or, at least, she believed that even if Eren continued chasing titans, she and Armin would always be the humans at his side. She never thought — that other people would  _ever_  —

Was this why he had been avoiding her? Is this why he hadn't even looked at her recently?

"Five more, Eren!" Armin called out, and Eren waved him off and panted on. Mikasa watched him circle around the grounds.

"On the bright side," Armin said, "I think that's record timing," and Mikasa made herself nod. Eren's obstacle teams had always suffered extra laps, and it was showing; this time the full ten took him only seven minutes, instead of the fifteen that it used to take, and once he was finished he didn't collapse immediately but but remained standing, supporting himself on his knees. Armin and Mikasa ran out to meet him, Armin handing him a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Eren muttered, not sounding particularly grateful, and sat up, panting, his face dark. Armin studied him for a moment.

"Don't get discouraged about the obstacle course," he said, patting Eren's shoulder. "You'll get it eventually."

"I'm not upset about the course," Eren muttered.

"You should be," Shadis said, and the three of them looked up. Shadis had approached so quietly none of them had noticed, and now, standing above them with his face shadowed by sunset, he was particularly intimidating.

"You better get through that course tomorrow, Jaeger," he said, voice cold. "Or you're off. I'm not so cruel that I'd send out an incompetent child out just to fly into the mouth of the first titan he sees."

"I'll do it," Eren said fiercely, but Shadis was already walking away.

Mikasa's mouth was dry. She turned to Armin. "There's no way Shadis would actually drop Eren. Right?"

"Shadis drop Eren? Of..." Armin saw Mikasa's face and reconsidered. "Uh, I mean, I don't know."

"No! You  _do_  know!"

"No! I mean — I don't think that he  _wouldn't_ …not…drop him..."

Her face darkened and she grabbed Eren's shoulder. "Come on. We are practicing.  _Right now._ "

She had been afraid this whole time that Eren would propel himself ahead of her — but she never imagined that he might drop out away completely.

"Right _now_?" they said in shock.

"Yes." Like  _hell_ would she allow Eren to get dropped from training and get sent back to the cities or who-knows-where without her.

"Mikasa, we've been working all day — and there's a whole new day tomorrow — and the team I'm on tomorrow is going to do the running course," Armin stammered, and Mikasa waved her hand. "That's fine, go back then, go to bed. Come on, Eren."

And when Eren hesitated she raised her voice. "Are you giving up the fight? If Shadis drops you, Eren, how are you supposed to kill all the titans on earth?!"

He reddened. "Alright! Fine! Let's practice!"

"Good luck, you guys," Armin called as Mikasa dragged Eren back to the obstacle course. "Be — be careful, Eren! Don't break a leg!"


	3. Chapter 3

Night was falling fast, and the lanterns strung up in the canopy around the obstacle course were on by the time they made it back. It was cold and Mikasa pulled her scarf more tightly around her neck. As they walked her vehemence faded, partly because Eren was so morose, and partly because they passed the tree where Eren had crashed into Annie.

_Don't worry about that,_  she thought.  _What if Eren gets dropped completely out of training?_  And yet, what if he stayed in training…and began to concentrate not just on titans, but on Annie as well? Her insides twisted.

_Don't ask,_  something in her urged,  _not now, not when he needs to concentrate on this,_  but she knew — she didn't want to ask, not out of consideration for him, but fear. She didn't want to know. But if she didn't fight…

They made it to the courses starting point. She sucked in a breath. "Eren," she started, turning around, "do you —"

He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the rings, eyes sharp. His tongue flicked against his lips. She swallowed.

"What?" he said suddenly. "Did you say something?"

"No." She spun around, heart racing. "Let's do it together. Follow me. Ready?"

"Rea —" The hiss of her gear's steam interrupted him. "Wh — Mika — augh!"

She was gone already, a distant spot in the canopy, and Eren fumbled with the gear — the hook shot off — he felt the satisfying  _clunk_  reverberate down the wire to his legs — and then he was off, through the first ring with little trouble, and then higher. His blood raced as they raced higher into the trees. Second ring — check. Third ring — his ankle clipped the edge of it and he spun slightly, and, with effort, recovered — check! Just two more left!

The fourth ring was reachable by swinging all the way around the trunk of a giant tree, the breadth of which was similar to a 15-meter class titan. He searched for Mikasa's shadow so as not to bump into her — he couldn't find her — was she so far ahead that he couldn't even see her anymore? How was he supposed to follow her?

"Mikasa!" he yelled out, "where are you?"

"Here!"

He looked up, and saw her — a streak in the sky — the next ring was ahead of him but as he watched she spun up, gliding around the trees like a bird — or better — elegant, fluid. She shot her hooks into a tree and swung in a perfect arc into the center of the next ring. She spun through effortlessly, released, soared into the air without any wires at all, free,  _beautiful_ , and as he watched he crashed into a tree.

He screamed.

"Eren?!" Mikasa shouted, and spun in the air, but she was too late — she saw Eren pinwheeling through the air, reaching for branches, catching, slipping, failing — he crashed into the bushes and then continued screaming.

"Dammit! Dammit!  _Dammit_!"

" _Eren_!" She landed on the ground nearby him. He was thrashing in the bush — not to escape, she realized with relief, but just to take out his frustration. No seriously injured person could destroy a bush that effectively. Mikasa watched grimly as his thrashings eventually reduced the majority of the bush to bare twigs and leaves pinched and torn in his hair and harness.

"Are you finished?" she asked when he finally stilled, and he said nothing, only panted, now fully tangled up in the bush. Mikasa stepped forward and grabbed his arm to pull him out.

"No!  _Don't_  —"

But she dragged his cringing body out anyway, and patted it down, checking for blood, for bones. His hands shot down between his legs and Mikasa's eyes widened.

"Y-you're hurt —  _there_  —?"

"*No*!" Eren shouted, horrified, and then shut his eyes. He couldn't hide it anymore. "I — I —"

But he couldn't bring himself to divulge it either. He groaned and rolled over.

"Eren," Mikasa tried, seeing him struggle, "there's — there's no reason to be ashamed —"

"There  _is_!" he shouted. "How am I supposed to fight titans like — like  _this_? How am I supposed to get through that course when I keep thinking about —?"

He bit his words back, shook his head. "This stupid — this stupid gear isn't even —" He began to shove at it, trying to take it off. "It's not even —  _broken_  —"

He yelped as the 3D suddenly shot off a hook. Mikasa stepped to the side and looked down. There was a wire where her knee had been. She looked back at Eren, who had paled.

"Sorry — sorry, Mikasa — I just — augh!" He kicked the gear off, but incorrectly — the harness twisted and he yelled again as his leg twisted with it, and stuck in place, awkward, trapped by the criss-crossing wires. He continued struggling and in moments had completely trussed himself up beyond freeing.

"Dammit," he hissed, wagging his fingers at the harness release, which was centimeters away from his fingertips. His jacket was too small, prevented his hand from crossing the last centimeters. His shirt had rode up, showing skin. He was flushed, his pants showing a bulge. Mikasa swallowed.

"So this isn't about Annie." Annie wasn't anywhere nearby at all.

"What? What did you say?" One of his ears was on the ground, and the other was covered by his arm. Mikasa walked over and knelt over him, studying the harness.

"Mikasa? What are you doing? Help me!"

"Do you really want me to help?" she asked.

"What?"

She slipped her finger beneath the strap tying his elbow. It snapped — not free, but into a new knot — Eren's eyes widened as he was suddenly yanked flat onto his back, hands over his head.

"You want me to help you out?" She flicked the harness again and Eren gasped as his knees sprang apart.

"M-Mi — Mi-mi-ka —"

His eyes were wide, and watching her. Watching  _her_. Her hands shook slightly as they slid over his belt. Eren watched her, mouth dry and agape.

"Wh…wh-what are you —"

"Titans," Mikasa reminded him sharply.

"Mi — kaaahh…" Mikasa's hand slid between his legs — lightly, lightly — but he felt it through his entire body — he gasped. Encouraged, Mikasa curled her hand around him, rubbed up and down, until Eren's voice became a groan. His arms strained against the harness, hands opening and fisting. She pressed her hands against his chest to feel his fast breath, his fast heart. Her body was getting warm and she released her 3D gear, shrugged off her jacket.

"Mika…" He wanted to tell her to get off him — he was horrified — that she had read him so easily, that she was moving over him with the same elegance with which he had seen her go through the trees. Deliberate — confident — no extra motion. She hooked her legs over his knees, first the right, then the left, easy — when she sat down on him it was measured, slow — she watched him shudder and then pushed her hips into him, gently — he was hard against her and she angled herself against him until she felt a little fire zip up her abdomen.  _Oh._  She inhaled slowly, trembled.

She was different — her body was so much more different than what his brain had guessed that others' bodies would be like, not all of it squishy softness but some of it firm, and so full of electricity. Her fingers were spread and dragged ten lines of static up his belly, his chest, so lightly that it didn't disturb his bruises or scratches. It spread and sank into his skin, his muscle. He spasmed against the harness again, hands trembling. He struggled to keep breathing evenly. She was sinking and rising over him — he was going to burst — he shut his eyes —

She leaned onto his knees, taking the pressure off — he inhaled sharply in alarm and when he opened his eyes Mikasa was leaning over him, dark hair brushing his brow. It caught in beads of sweat there.

He looked up at her, eyes glazed, seeing  _her_. She held her hands to either side of his face, keeping his eyes on hers. Her lips gleamed.

"Say it again."

"Ah...huh?"

"Say my name again."

He swallowed. His cheeks were tinged. "Mikasa," he managed finally, glancing away and down, but she tipped his face to hers again and leaned toward him slowly, slowly, meeting her lips with his, even, and then tasting them separate, feeling the trembling shape of his upper lip and biting lightly the lower one.

Some part of him writhed inside, and when he said her name it seemed to echo in him. Mikasa.  _Mikasa._  Who had been by his side his entire life, it seemed, who was the last real lingering part of his old home left. It startled him to feel himself straining against the harness, to escape, not to leave her but to be closer, closer, much closer than she allowed him. She was so light — and he wanted —  _wanted_  — he jerked his head up to kiss her back, but met her mouth with such force that their front teeth clicked together. He flushed but she ignored his embarrassment, pulled his head up closer to hers, making a cradle of her fingers.

He felt that he should be disconcerted to have his fantasies materialize into her, but she clearly had no such qualms, and against her hands and mouth it felt natural, and soon he was hardly able to think about anything. She kissed his throat, sucked ardently, and with every patch of skin she touched he felt himself weakened, drawn out of the little ball that he'd been forcing himself into the past few days, his little shell of shame and frustration. She found and extracted it from him as easy as she swung from branch to branch.

She inhaled his staggered breath until she felt him relax against her. She withdrew from him with a little suck, with a line of saliva she swept away with a circle of her tongue. His chest rose and fell beneath her arms. She realized her breath was fast and caught it.

"Feel better?"

His lips pursed. He looked away. "Let me go," he murmured, and Mikasa's heart shook. Nothing? No response? She thought she had reached him. She thought she had finally touched him — but there he was again, eyes turned away from her. She unclenched her fingers and ripped the strap off of his wrist, and as she shoved herself off the ground she lost her balance and tripped again as Eren grabbed her hand.

"Er —?"

He yanked her down on him, gasping as she fell on him again, her weight delicious, her legs arranging around his hips perfectly, her muscle squeezing his hips, his crotch.

"Mikasa," he gasped, "I — I want —"

He couldn't finish. The harness was too tight — it was squeezing the air from his lungs — his left arm was still caught. He shook it furiously, but the straps and buckles whipped his arms and rattled and kept him, and finally Mikasa shoved the straps off over his shoulder, unhooked them from his elbow, and then shoved off his jacket and tugged his shirt fiercely over his head. There was a tearing noise — a rustle as the shirt hit what remained of the bushes — he gasped as Mikasa's hands fell over him, not light as before but hard, pressing greedily into his skin. She was so far ahead of him — he raced to catch up, unbuttoning her shirt, peeling it down, exposing her shoulders and their smooth hills of muscle. Once she shrugged her arms out of her sleeves, he hesitated, and started to remove her scarf as well, but she grabbed his hands and shoved them impatiently beneath her bra, his knuckles pushing up the fabric up to her sternum, his calloused fingers scratchy but so so warm.

A cry slipped out of her, escaped from her brick composure, and she covered her mouth in shock. She hadn't expected it would feel — that —  _good_  — she put his hands on her just to fulfill her ideas of how this was supposed to go, but now his eyes flashed, and he quickly grabbed both of her exposed breasts and squeezed, her nipples already firm in the circle of his thumb and forefinger. His thumb brushed the dark areola and when another whimper slipped out of her he felt all his muscles tighten, he tilted her right breast up towards him, a little sharp — he couldn't reach them — he pushed her off his lap and onto the ground, her back on her shirt, his chest to her firm stomach. He kissed her nipple, lightly, making a circle of his lips and dragging it lightly over her skin, as lightly as she had done to him, and was rewarded with a shudder of her body — he glanced up at her and saw her face was completely red and felt struck. He had never seen her like this before — this wasn't the Mikasa he grew up with — her impeccable composure cracked — her body all smoothness and valleys of muscle and goosebumps. He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it, drew spirals around it with his tongue, and they rose and fell with increasing sharpness as she fought to catch her breath. She was beautiful, beautiful. Something surged through him and he gripped her hard, unable to help himself, and he winced as she bent his wrist back.

"Too — too hard."

"S-sorry — I —"

"It's — it's fine." She was done there anyway — she felt herself trembling, not just above her skin but beneath it, far below it, the same swelling tremble she had felt the past couple days but much stronger, hungrier. Something in her was yawning awake and without further hesitation she pulled Eren's hand against the skin beneath her belly, loosened her belt buckle until it fit through. His knuckles brushed just precisely and she buried her brow into his shoulder, cried out into it.

He licked his lips and turned his hand around — her breath grew shallow again — cautiously he loosened her belt and pushed his hand further down, slowly slowly, cautious, nervous, trying to rein his excitement — she felt so good — so soft, and warm, and wet — he swallowed and then made a fork of his fingers, spreading her apart, outlined her slit with his middle finger. Her muscles twitched down there, and he saw goosebumps rise along her shoulders.

"Go further," she murmured hoarsely, her breath tickling his collarbone, and he curled his finger, slipped it in, and she shoved her head against his skin, her fingernails dragged down, from collarbone to chest to navel to —

He moaned as she grabbed his cock, with fervor, and she made a quick circle of her hands and gripped him up and down, fast strokes at first that set fires in his body and then long, slow stretches that made him weak. She moved closer over him, kissing his throat, and he pressed his finger further into her, then inserted a second, breathless at how soft, how soft — she was — and he —

"I'm — I'm going to —"

"No," she told him, "not — not yet," the angle was off, his hand wasn't going far enough, she withdrew it from her desperately and began pulling down her pants until the hem of it and her underwear was past her thighs, until she had freed a leg, which she laid again against his waist, gripping. She knelt forward, withdrawing and holding him in one hand, and began to lower herself down — he felt her, tight, and hot, and — so — slow — he put a hand on her shoulder and forced her down, and she huffed as he entered her fully, finally, reaching — the tiny hungry core of her — almost.

"Eren," she moaned, and when she looked at him she saw her look mirrored back to her, delighted, panicked, frustrated. His braced himself with palms to the ground and began to thrust against her, and she thrust back, pushing forward and back, unable to stifle anymore her gasps and cries of pleasure as she moved him in and out, forcing him deeper, deeper, to reach her, or maybe pulling him so close that she might finally reach him. Her breasts swung on either side of the red scarf. She felt all the muscles in her body winding up like wire — tighter, tighter —  _tighter —_

She felt his body seize, fingernails scraping the dirt as he suddenly made fists, his spine arching; he wrapped his arms around her, gasped, " _I'm —_ " and then he came, moaning, squeezing her tightly, his hips rising just as hers fell, and finally all the tension in her snapped, and she shoved her head against his body, mouth agape in a silent cry as warmth filled her from belly to ribs to fingertips, like steam.

Eren fell back and Mikasa fell on top of him, both of them exhausted, panting. She felt like her body had unraveled, and she was too tired to collect the pieces of it, to roll herself back up into her tight facade. For the first time she felt the chill breeze, and realized the sun had fallen completely.

"Mikasa," Eren whispered, and she straightened to meet his gaze. His eyes glistened in the lantern light as he looked at her. He was grinning.

"What is it, Eren?"

"Ah…thanks. That is...I…I think I can do it now. The course."

She smiled. "Good."

:::

And he did. Armin and everyone else watched in shock as Eren finished the course perfectly, whooping even, and throwing in a messy spin through the last ring.

"You're amazing, Mikasa," Armin breathed. "We should have just forced him to practice with you much earlier."

"Yeah," she agreed, watching as Eren started to run the course backwards despite Shadis's yelling that he had already done enough.

"It would have saved us a couple laps. Well, probably a couple dozen. Or a hundred." Armin sighed and then sighed with relief. "You know, I was kind of nervous he wouldn't pass after all when Eren came back to the barracks last and had all those bruises on his neck. He probably crashed into a dozen trees."

"Yeah…something like that."

"And just in time for all of us to start sword practice! I think we're going to start this afternoon. You know," he said thoughtfully, "since you're already good at it…maybe we should just skip classes and train with you."

She glanced over at him, amused. "If you like. I won't take it easy on you, though."


End file.
